


oh kid, you fit right in

by orphan_account



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Dick adopts Harry, Gen, Harry Potter was Raised by Other(s), dick is a dad, half harry's hogwarts years, half his childhood, not sure if hes a good one or not but he's trying, reuploaded btw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 17:46:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18254783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “It’s just a nickname,” He assured Harry. “Short for Richard. What’s Harry short for?”Harry shrugged and took a tiny bite of pizza, looking at Dick the entire time. “I dunno.”(or, Dick Grayson adopts Harry Potter. Some Hogwarts students weren't raised by a neurotic vigilante and it shows.)





	oh kid, you fit right in

**Author's Note:**

> yeah so this is a blatant reposting of my other fic which i deleted. i just didnt like the writing at all, and it wasn't going where i wsnted it to, and i think it's more exciting and interesting this way... so.
> 
> im a lot more motivated to write for this version too, so! thats great. i have up to year 3 planned out nicely. thank you so much to everyone who supported the last version!!! i really hope this version is liked as much as that one!! the support honestly means the world to me.
> 
> also, harry probably seems extremely kiddish in this, and thats because a) hes mostly interacting with his close family who also happen to be super serious bats. he'll be a lot more batraised when hes around his friends. and b) hes a baby.

**2005**

 

Dick Grayson wasn’t especially at a point where he questioned what happened in his life. He never really had been ever, honestly, or at least not since he was a tiny nine year old in booty shorts doing cartwheels around criminals. That statement in itself alone was enough reason not to think too hard about every weird thing that ever managed to cross paths with him. And oh boy, there was a  _ lot. _

 

“I’m not trying to be rude, but I was wondering, why does everyone call you Dick? Doesn’t that hurt your feelings? That isn’t a nice word.”

 

Dick’s head tilted up a little from his phone, looking over at the kid across from him. It was the longest sentence he heard from him all day. He was sitting outside with Harry Potter at a little italian place in a nicer part of Blüdhaven, which was kind of an oxymoron. But god this kid looked like he needed a decent meal. He smiled slightly, watching as Harry poked at his pizza like he never saw anything like it. Maybe he hadn’t, Dick wasn’t an expert in English delicacies.

 

“It’s just a nickname,” He assured Harry. “Short for Richard. What’s Harry short for?”

 

Harry shrugged and took a tiny bite of pizza, looking at Dick the entire time. “I dunno.”

 

Trying to wheedle info out of this kid was tougher than trying it on Batman. Harry rotated between half truths, shurgging, or staring at you until you move on. Dick kind of wanted to lock him in an interrogation room with Bruce and just watch them try to outdo each other. But Dick didn’t hate anyone enough to lock em in with Bruce. All he knew about Harry was that he was four (five in two months!), his last name was Potter, and somehow he travelled from suburban England to Bludhaven all by himself and wouldn’t say how. 

 

Dick spent two hours on a park bench with Harry waiting for someone to pick him up, then he pulled the plug and figured he probably needed food. 

 

“My parents used to call me Dickie,” He continued to elaborate, pushing down the little pang when he mentioned them. He wasn’t Bruce; it happened years ago, he wasn’t going to do something stupid like live in their ghosts forever, and vulnerability might get Harry to open up.  “And after I went to live with Bruce- my adopted… foster-guardian-dad-person- I was pretty stubborn about keeping it. My english wasn’t good and I didn’t realise it was a  _ little  _ outdated until it was too late.”

 

Harry’s hand stilled from where he was rubbing his greasy fingers on a napkin. He stared at Dick with wide eyes. “Your parents aren’t…?”

 

Interesting. Leave it to a bat to sniff out orphans like clockwork.

 

“They’re dead, yeah,” He nodded a little, taking a sip of diet pepsi to hide his wince. He needed to work on bluntness, apparently. Just with small children. 

 

Harry was very interested and enthralled and obviously wanted to hear the whole story. It probably wasn’t normal for a kid to automatically want to hear about death but. Fuck it. “We were travelling acrobats. There was an… accident, and the trapeze line snapped when they were mid air.”

 

Before Dick could really further process that telling this to a little kid was potentially upsetting (oh god, he really was turning into Bruce (but at least he edited out the  _ murder  _ part)), Harry frowned, and looked thoughtful rather than sad. Really weird. But refreshing, maybe. 

 

“My parents died in an accident too,” He mumbled, and Dick’s eyebrows went up. Harry turned slightly red at the attention, but continued. “That’s what my Aunt Petunia said…” A twinge of a look passed over Harry’s face when he mentioned his family, and Dick absentmindedly filed away to reflect on later. Neglect, probably, judging from Harry’s size. And now he had a name. Sick. His eyes glanced at the scar of Harry’s forehead. 

 

“Look at us, huh? A couple orphans,” Don’t think about Bruce. Don’t think about Bruce, goddamnit Dick, you are terrible at this. “Do you remember anything about your parents?”

 

Harry shook his head. “No. I was just a baby. But I think, um…” He stared at his plate shyly. “One time Aunt Petunia said I have my mum’s eyes, but then she got really upset about it. I've never seen a picture of her, or my dad. Aunt Petunia said he was a  _ drink _ .” 

 

Harry probably meant a drunk. And oh god, something in Dick’s heart that he didn’t even know was there  _ squeezed _ . Even through everything, he could at least remember something of his parents. Maybe nothing specific anymore, but he could remember the love that was there.

 

Harry didn’t have the memory of being  _ loved  _ by his parents. Regardless of Dick’s depressing theories of how Harry was being raised, any Aunt who calls a kid’s dead dad a drunk can kindly suck a-

 

Dick took a huge bite of pizza to keep his anger down. Harry would probably think it was directed at him, and then he’d go back to not answering anything. The conversation was good, Dick just had to get it back on track. 

 

“So, Potter. That’s your dad’s last name, right? Not your Aunts?” 

 

Harry made a face, where he scrunched up his nose a lot and went a little cross eyed. It was cute. “Aunt Petunia would  _ never  _ let me be a Dursley,” Then, Harry leaned in and lowered his voice, like he was letting Harry in on a big secret. “And I wouldn’t want to be,” He whispered loudly. 

 

Dick couldn’t help the smile he gave back. “Hey, I’ll cheers to that,” He raised his glass. His glass of  _ Diet Coke,  _ because he didn’t want to get caught with a fake ID and a five year old he technically kidnapped. 

 

Harry looked at him in confusion. Dick reached over and picked up his little kid cup of chocolate milk and tapped it to his glass. “Cheers, like that, see? You’re british, it’s your culture.” And Harry nodded raptly, still watching him.

 

Dick ended up taking a sip of chocolate milk, because it’s been years, and it was  _ good.  _ Why did adults sleep on that stuff. He gave Harry his cup back, but offered up his to Harry could try it. 

 

Harry shuffled in his seat. “Is that really okay?” He asked, as he was already reaching for it. But he hesitated, like he was expecting Dick to snatch it back and go ‘haha, just kidding.’

 

“Sharesies has to be fairsies,” Dick said, and Harry finally took the much larger cup. He had to use both hands. It was adorable. Dick was also pretty sure he learned that phrase from Wally, which was hilarious, and he was definitely tormenting his best friend over the fact he used babytalk. 

 

Harry took a surprisingly big drink, and ended up spitting half of it back into the cup when the fizziness surprised him. Dick laughed and carefully took it back before Harry could drop it. He’d probably send it back and ask for chocolate milk. “You good, little man?”

 

Harry gave a pathetic little cough, and nodded. “Wh-What was that?” His voice was weird because he had his tongue sticking out, tryna process what happened to it.

 

“Carbonation. You’re lucky, I thought it would have gone flat by now,” 

 

Harry opened his mouth to ask what flat meant, then closed it, then opened it again. “Can I have more?”

 

Dick pushed it over to his side of the table, and took his chocolate milk for himself. “Remember to use both hands,” He said. “And don’t drink too much, you’ll get full and you need to finish eating. 

 

Harry nodded very seriously, and only took a small drink. Dick watched him swish it around in his mouth a little before swallowing, and then taking another bite of pizza. Dick copied him. 

 

Swallowing about half of the bite and ensuring there was still plenty of food in his mouth for Dick to see when he spoke, Harry said “This is the most food I’ve ever had  _ ever,”  _ Like he didn’t expect Dick to just call CAS on the spot. 

 

Which Dick would do, if he knew the british CAS number. Instead, he folded his hands in front of him. “You can take whatever you don’t eat with you when we leave.”

 

Harry gasped a little, and Dick said a silent thanks on the fact Harry didn’t choke. “Really?!”

 

“Yeah, for sure,” Dick gave him a little soft smile. A very solid chunk of the food in Dick’s fridge was already leftover pizza, but it’s not like he was gonna say  _ no.  _

 

Dick felt the table shake a little, and he realised it was Harry swinging his feet happily. Harry managed to get a couple more bites down, and a couple more sips of coke, before saying he didn’t feel too good. Dick managed to get him standing up before all of the contents of Harry’s stomach ended up on the restaurant floor, and Dick’s pants. 

 

Everyone was  _ staring  _ at them, and Harry hiccuped, real close to tears. This kind of emergency caused Dick to go full vigilante mode, where he somehow managed to go into a haze of picking up Harry’s shaking body, fishing out his wallet to throw enough cash for their meal on the table, and hightailing it back to his apartment to get Harry cleaned up. 

 

Weirdly, that’s when he also realised he wasn’t all that mad about it, and he didn’t wanna let Harry go ever again. 

 

He texted Babs that he needed a favor.

 

That night he ended up tucking Harry into his own bed, cringing slightly because he  _ knew  _ the last time he washed those sheets, and it wasn’t good. Harry had on a pair of his gym shorts with the drawstrings tightened all the way, and one of Dick’s really really old Gotham academy t shirts, which was still about 20 sizes too big. Overall, it still fit him better than the outfit he showed up in.

 

“Thank you for letting me stay here.” Harry mumbled, absolutely looking tired as hell. “And thank you for letting me sleep in your room. And giving me food. And I’m sorry I got sick.”

 

Dick patted his hair. “Don’t worry about it, kiddo,” He said honestly. “Just go to sleep. I’ll figure out what we’re gonna do about getting you to stay here when you’re out.”

 

Harry sat up immediately, suddenly wide awake. Fuck. “I get to  _ stay  _ here?” He asked, his breath coming out a little fast. 

 

“If you want to,” Dick said, quietly, trying to shush him into laying back down. “And if your relatives don’t want to take you back. We have to try and figure out how you got here first, though.”

 

Harry did not lay back down, he just stared at Dick like he couldn’t believe it. “I don’t  _ want  _ to go back.”

 

“I know.” Dick’s hands dropped into his lap. “And I’m gonna do everything I can to make sure you don’t have to-”

 

“I don’t know why I got here, I-I just-” Harry blurted out, and sucked in a breath. He was obviously scared of telling Dick, but once he started, he didn’t stop. “I was just running from Dudley, cause he invented this new game called Harry hunt, and Aunt Petunia didn’t try to stop it, so I wished really really hard that I had a family who loved me and then I was in that park!”

 

Harry was breathing hard, and tears gathered in his eyes again. “I-It was that- that freaky stuff Aunt Petunia hates-” He wiped at his eyes roughly, knocking his ill fitting glasses off. He sniffled. “I’m sorry I did it, I promise if I live you I won’t do it anymore, I try really hard not to and-”

 

Dick really wanted to give Harry a hug. So he did. Harry was so  _ tiny  _ in his arms, it wasn’t fair. He was also one hundred percent never, ever giving this kid back to Petunia Dursley. He’d quite literally die fighting about it. 

 

“It’s okay, Harry,” Dick shushed him, and Harry just cried into his chest, getting snot and tears all on Dick’s shirt. Oh well. “Hey, come on, chum, it’s okay,”

 

Comforting wasn’t really Dick’s strongest suit. He was good at it for Bruce, who never admitted being upset, and his friends, who were usually relatable in their problems. But calming down a metahuman little kid wasn’t very well practiced. Not to say he wouldn’t try. 

 

“It’s not freaky,” Dick said, rubbing Harry’s back methodically. “It’s okay. A lot of my friends have cool powers like that too.”

 

Harry sniffed again, and pulled away a little to stare at Dick in wonder.  _ Guess they called him Boy Wonder for a reason, huh,  _ he thought. “ _ Tons  _ of my friends.” Dick continued, because it seemed to work. “You can meet some of them, too. You’ll really love Wally.” 

 

Harry hiccuped, and rubbed his face again. “I-I’m not freaky?”

 

“Nope,” Dick popped the ‘p’. Just a little bit. “No way, no how. It just means you have superpowers, and that’s really cool, right?”

 

Harry let out a shuddery breath and nodded feverhently. Dick smiled a little bit, trying to calm him down more. “Are you oka-”

 

His phone buzzed where it was discarded beside them on the bed. He saw that it was Babs, and immediately grabbed it to see if she got what he wanted. It was.

 

“Here,” He said instead, turning the phone towards Harry. The article was dated October 31st, 2000, and thankfully Babs managed to blur out the bits of headline and words printed around the picture. “This should cheer you up. That’s your mom and dad.”

 

Harry took the phone in his shaky hands, starting to cry all over again as he stared at it, watery smile threatening to split his face in half. Dick shifted onto the bed more, so he could lean his back against the wall and hug Harry comfortably. 

 

It was going to be a long night.

 

-

 

**2012**

 

“Sick!” Wally said, shutting  _ Hogwarts: A History  _ five seconds after opening it. “Magic castle school sounds  _ wicked.” _

 

Dick’s eyebrow quirked as he reached over and snatched the book back, opening it back up to his dog eared spot. “You should probably not say that in front of any witches, it feels like magical slang for something.”

 

“It’s only magical slang if they live in Oz,” Harry rolled his eyes. “Duh.”

 

“Oh, and how do you know that?” Dick reached over and pinched Harry’s cheek, causing him to immediately squirm away. 

 

“You’ve been in the wizarding world for like, five seconds,” Wally added. “And I skimmed the whole offensive language part they put in for people who don’t know anything, and wicked wasn’t on there. Which is, you know,  _ wicked.” _

 

Harry finally managed to get away from Dick’s onslaught by rolling away, hopping onto the coffee table, and nose diving for the spot on the loveseat beside Wally. Dick didn’t bother trying to tell Harry not to jump on the furniture; it wouldn’t change anything, and Dick was more guilty of doing it himself than Harry ever will be. They already had to replace about every possible sitting place at least twice in the six years since Harry lived with Dick. (To be fair, Dick definitely started the water fight on Harry 8th birthday, so all damages were at his expense.)

 

Harry took a couple seconds of playing dead to make sure Dick wasn’t going to make another move before sitting up and adjusting his glasses. “Hey Uncle Wally,” He said, and pushed himself upright so he was leaning against his arm.

 

Wally beamed and raised it, letting Harry fall into his side with an ‘humph’ before wrapping it back securely around him. “Yeah, Hare-Bear?”

 

Harry pulled a face at the name. “You read the whole book, right? So you know about houses?”

 

“Yeah!” Wally looked down at him. “That was one of the cool parts. Personality test where I don’t have to answer what my favourite colour is, sounds sweet,”

 

Harry glanced over at Dick, who was shuffling through the book, trying to find what they were talking about. “When we were in Diagon Alley, and there was that kid in the clothes place,” He looked back up at his uncle. He couldn’t remember names for the life of him, but Diagon Alley seemed to have one shop for each thing, which made it easier. “He was talking about them and he asked me which one I would be in. I said I didn’t know,”

 

Wally gave a shrug that jostled Harry’s whole body. “According to the book, they all got good and bad stuff. I dunno what they’re thinking by doing it now though, you’re like nine, you don’t even  _ have  _ a personality yet.”

 

“I’m eleven,” Harry said immediately, the same time Dick said “He’s eleven.” They shared a look. Dick wiggled his eyebrows in a way that was becoming commonplace whenever magic things were involved, and it made Harry giggle. Then Dick refocused his attention on Wally. “Seriously, Walls, you were literally there for his birthday party.”

 

“I have a short attention span.” 

 

“It was last week!”

 

“I’m just kidding!” Wally exclaimed. “Harry knows that.”

 

“No I don’t,” Harry told him, and Dick’s arm flared out dramatically. 

 

He fixed Wally with a look. “See the damage you’ve done? He’s insecure now. He’ll never be the same.”

 

“Yeah,” Harry said sullenly, despite the grin pulling at his lips from the absolutely awesome joke he was about to make. “Now I’m going to dress up as a bat and punch people. I’ll never be happy again.” 

 

Wally started laughing right off the  _ bat,  _ haha, and it took a moment of exasperated silence for Dick to join in. Harry felt incredibly proud of himself. 

 

“See? He’s already got more personality than any nine year old I’ve met so far,” Dick chuckled a little.

 

“I’m  _ eleven _ !”

 

Wally cocked his head to the side, pretending to mishear. “You’re elven? I can’t believe you watched Lord of the Rings without me,”

 

Harry groaned, and Dick joined in. “Leave the puns to me, please,” 

 

“You’re only good at them when you’re next to Batman,” Wally whined. 

 

“At least he’s good at them,” Harry said, ducking out of Wally’s arm to cross the room. He sat down beside Dick again, giving him a high five.

 

“Not fair!” Wally complained. “Dick, you brainwashed your kid to think you’re cool, that doesn’t count.”

 

Dick pointed a finger at him accusingly, and Harry took a moment to snatch the book off of Dick’s lap. “I didn’t brainwash shit, he’s just loyal to the cause,” He told Wally.

 

“Not loyal.” Harry groaned again. “I don’t want to be a  _ Hufflepuff _ .”

 

Dick frowned, and leaned over to spy on Harry’s page. “What’s wrong with Hufflepuff? Loyal and hardworking, that sounds good.”

 

“But the name sounds stupid,” Harry said miserably. “It sounds like some kind of English food Alfred makes. And their mascot is a badger! You know what’s cooler than a badger? Like, anything else!”

 

“He’s got a point,” Wally said. “And Hufflepuff’s are known for being wimps. They get into stereotypes on page 509,”

 

Dick frowned as he read about further houses. “Huh. They really fucked over Hufflepuff, huh?”

 

“You’d be a Hufflepuff,” Harry told Wally, grinning when Wally spluttered.

 

“No way! You’re just saying that, I’m not the lame house-”

 

“Roy’s a Hufflepuff.” Dick decided, cutting off Wally mid complaint. “You’re a Ravenclaw, Walls.”

 

Wally’s pout lessened as he considered it. “Sick. That means I’m smart.”

 

“Actually,” Harry read the page quickly. “It means that you’re a nerd. And boring.”

 

Eyes narrowed, Wally speed-snatched the book away their side of the room. “You don’t deserve this if you’ll abuse it.”

 

Dick just leaned back in his chair, unbothered. Harry shifted and brought his legs up, settling them across Dick’s lap. Harry was definitely too old for  _ snuggling,  _ but he knew Dick enjoyed the physical contact as much as he did. 

 

Harry poked Dick’s cheek. “You’re a Gryffindor.” He decided. “Definitely the coolest house.”

 

Dick looked vaguely amused, and he smiled, shaking his head. “I’m Slytherin, kiddo, sorry to burst your bubble.”

 

Harry’s eyes bugged out of his head. “No way!”

 

“Yes way,” Wally agreed. “You don’t know him on the field. He’s called  _ Dick  _ for a reason,” He caught the pillow that was chucked at him with lightning fast reflexes. Harry thought it was pretty cool that he could say stuff like that without it being an exaggeration. Or he would have thought so, if he wasn’t currently flabbergasted. 

 

“But you’re so… brave, and stuff! You’re a superhero!” Harry protested, and they both ignored Wally’s little ‘Vigilante, actually,’ in the background.

 

Dick shrugged. “Yeah sure, I’m probably more willing to deal with situations than  _ normal  _ people, but that’s cause I’m prepared for them. I know how to do something, so I do it, but I’m not stupidly  _ running _ in there like  _ some  _ people do,”

 

“Nice Batman diss,” Wally said, now eating a banana he got from the kitchen in a millisecond. 

 

Harry snorted when he saw Dick’s ‘see what I mean’ look. 

 

“Also,” Wally decided to add. “You’re a huge liar. How many deaths have you faked by now?”

 

“ _ Also,”  _ Dick ignored Wally even spoke. “Being brave isn’t a personality trait. Anyone can be brave.”

 

“That was cute,” Wally said, mashed banana falling out of his mouth. “Is that going on the Batfamily Christmas Card?”

 

Harry ended up laying back, wondering if Dick was right. Probably. His dad was never wrong. 

 

-

 

The thing about finding he was famous in Britain’s Wizarding World was that, while surprising, it wasn’t really life changing. It wasn’t like he had his face plastered everywhere or anything. Nobody actually knew what he looked like if he kept his scar covered, which was pretty easy through a haircut. And sunglasses, because Dick said every celebrity had to have sunglasses, so they got matching ones. Harry couldn’t wear them without having to take off his  _ actual  _ glasses, but he still looked super cool. He thought. He couldn’t see himself because of aforementioned glasses dilemma. 

 

Anyways.

 

When Hagrid showed up at their apartment, Hogwarts letter in hand, and told him all about  how he was a famous wizard, Harry was a lot more focused on the  _ wizard _ part than the  _ famous _ part. 

 

And Dick wasn’t even surprised, that dick. 

 

_ “There were tons of wizards in the Circus,” He had said, a lot more concerned about the way their kitchen chair was straining with Hagrid’s weight. “Mostly they were squibs. I think my mom was one. At least you’re not a meta or alien, Harry, Bruce’ll be happy about that.” _

 

Then Hagrid gave them instructions to Diagon Alley, left, and Dick told Harry not to worry about it too much, and if he wanted they could call Zatanna to talk him through the whole magic process. All in all, he wasn’t recognized too often, and when he was he just gave those fake smiles he saved for Bruce’s galas and tried not to answer any questions. 

Harry’s more pressing issue, related to the fame, was the fact he didn’t know if he could make friends. He didn’t have a secret identity to hide behind so nobody knew who he was. Dick’s ‘Harry isn’t allowed in the vigilante scene until he’s an adult’ policy was really biting his butt right now. Maybe he could make one up, juts for school. Would they accept a fake name in the system?

 

“Hey, kid.” His Uncle Jason said, plunking down beside him. Harry was spending the week at the manor while he pondered his lonely doom, because the manor was a great place for reflecting on depression. It was also because Dick and Bruce were working on some kinda of Gotham-Bludhaven drug deal bust, but Harry didn’t care about that. 

 

It took a couple seconds for Harry to realize Jason was talking to him, and wanted a response to know he was listening. Harry decided to placate him with a noise, wiggling to he slide down on the couch more. He was already upside down, so know his head was just inches from the ground. 

 

Jason patted his stomach, right on the slab of skin that was revealed by his shirt riding up, causing Harry to try his hardest to crouch up and look at what was happening. “Stop!” He demanded, and choked on his spit when it caused him to fall off the couch. 

 

Jason snorted, which was basically rolling in laughter for him these days. “That’s what you get for being depressing. You’re not allowed to be sad yet.”

 

“There’s a time limit?” Harry grumbled, put out and rubbing his head. It didn’t actually hurt, but usually if he milked these things enough he ended up getting something. Jason seemed to see through him this time. 

 

“Yeah. You need to die first, family rule,” Jason grabbed the back of Harry’s shirt and hefted him back onto the couch, ignoring the way he almost strangled him. “So what’s up, buttercup?”

 

Harry wheezed a little, dramatically, tugging his shirt back down when Jason let go. “I’m going to die alone.” He stated glumly, then remembered who he was talking to. “No offense.”

 

“None taken.” Jason leaned back and didn’t seem like he would say anything else.

 

Harry wasn’t having it. “I’ll never live a normal life!” He let himself turn into dead weight and fall onto Jason, grinning victoriously when Jason grunted in pain on contact. 

 

“And why is that?” Jason gritted out, already regretting approaching Harry in the first place.

 

“I’m famous,” Harry’s voice dropped to an almost whisper. “I can’t trust anybody. Nobody will ever like me more than my popularity. I’ll lose it all at sixteen and go to rehab.” 

 

“Well hey, rehab is initiating the first step to helping yourself,” Jason told him, probably quoting a brochure he read or something. 

 

Harry thought about it. “I don’t have to shave my head, do I?” He asked worriedly. He tried that look once, one time after he got frustrated with his hair and cut it himself while Dick powernapped on the couch. It was unsalvageable, and Dick said they better just shave it all off, and then the next morning Harry had a full head of perfect hair. 

 

No wonder Dick thought he was a meta. 

 

“You might,” Jason said seriously, and a spike of fear shot through Harry. What if it didn’t grow back that time?

 

“No! I’m not going to rehab, you can’t make me!” Harry yelled. 

 

“Jason.” A very tired voice said. “Don’t threaten to send Harry to rehab.” They both looked over to see Bruce standing in the doorway, arms crossed over black T-Shirt. The sweats meant that he just got out of the batsuit, and since it was almost 8 pm that meant that he wasn’t going out at all, which meant that Harry could totally con him into watching movies with him.  _ Score.  _

 

Jason frowned and averted his eyes from Bruce while Harry ran over and hugged him. “I only threatened to shave his head,” Jason complained, and stood. “Why aren’t you going out tonight?”

“We agreed it’d be better to give them false confidence when we ambush them tomorrow.” Bruce said, relaxing his posture enough he could manage to sling one arm around Harry. He could definitely still pick Harry up like he was five, but Harry was way to much of a big kid to be treated like a baby. Harry could feel Bruce tense slightly at the next sentence. “It’s good to see you, jason.”

 

Jason stood up, and Harry frowned, already knowing Jason was going to head out. “Just cause you’re not going out isn’t gonna stop me,” He said, ignoring Bruce’s attempt at civil talk. “Speaking of which, gotta go. Bye, munchkin.”

 

Harry let go of Bruce and ran to hug Jason, because he didn’t get to see his uncle very much anymore, and he wouldn’t get to see _ anybody _ for the ten months he was at Hogwarts. “Bye Uncle Jason!” He said loudly, and Jason patted his head, the universal signal for Harry to let go. Jason and Bruce never fully hugged him back the way Dick did, and Harry thought it was funny they were more similar when they didn’t get along. 

 

Jason didn’t acknowledge Bruce as he left through the front door, and Harry knew that Bruce was gonna be sad about it. He turned to look at Bruce, who was still standing there. He wanted to ask where Dick was, but then Bruce might think he wanted to spend time with Dick rather than him, and he really, really wanted to spend time with Bruce. 

 

“If you’re not doing Batman stuff, can we watch movies?” Harry asked, and Bruce gave him a little smile. Harry rocked on the balls of his feet. “I made a list with Dick,” He pressed further. “Of all the disney movies where the parents are alive. It’s not a lot.”

 

Bruce pretended to think about it. “On one condition,” He started, and Harry perked up in anticipation. Bruce held the silence dramatically long. “...Alfred gets to join us.”

 

“Hm…” Harry tapped his chin, pretending to think about it too. “I have my own condition!”

 

Bruce’s eyebrows raised. “And what’s that?”

 

“I get to have all the snacks.”

 

Chuckling a little, Bruce nodded heavily. “I think we can work it out.”

 

“Yesssss!” Harry hissed out, and he grabbed Bruce’s hand, dragging him down the hall. “We’re gonna have the best movie night  _ ever _ .”

 

“You say that everytime,” Bruce pointed out, but didn’t disagree. 

 

-

 

Harry couldn’t really pinpoint when movie nights with Bruce became a thing. He was pretty sure Bruce was sick, and forced on bed rest by Alfred, and Harry was staying the night because of some reason or the other. They gathered blankets and pillows and Harry’s Zitka into a big pile on the floor of one of the manor’s living rooms, and sat there. Eventually Alfred joined them too, but Harry got to do a bunch of stuff with Alfred, so he considered this primarily Bruce time. He didn’t get to see a lot of his… Grandfather? Not his actual grandfather, not even by legal terms, but it sure was the closest Harry ever got to describing their relationship. 

 

And they hadn’t had one in a really long time. A year, maybe more, because Bruce got really busy with being Batman and training Tim to be Robin and then fighting with Tim as Robin, and then Jason came back to life, and then… So yeah. Harry was seriously missing out on Bruce time. But Bruce had the emotional range of a wet paper bag. 

 

They got their blankets settled and pillows (and Zitka, but Harry won’t admit it, because he’s way too old for stuffed animals, jeez.) and set up for. In Bruce’s room this time, because apparently Tim was out with some of his Young Justice friends, and if they all came back they would be loud and crash their party, so Harry thought it was pretty smart of Bruce to think that through. 

 

“Is Dick still in the cave?” Harry asked. Dick was either in the cave or he left, and he never left without telling Harry, so he was probably in the cave. But Bruce might say  _ why  _ Dick was still in the cave. Don’t assume you know the full answer, that was a batrule. 

 

Bruce sorted through the categories on Netflix, looking for kids. “Yes. We had a disagreement on how to handle the case. He’s calming down.”

 

That meant he was doing all the cool acrobat stuff on the gym equipment. Sometimes Harry could join him, and Dick would teach him how to do new flips and stuff. Harry wasn’t close to any kind of Robin level of flexibility, but he could do enough to impress normal people. Which was what mattered. 

 

“Oh.” Was all Harry said. He knew Bruce and Dick had a lot of arguments, but Harry wasn’t sure how to handle it, because they never did it in front of him. Which he was thankful for. He patted Bruce’s arm a little. “Are you okay?” That seemed like the right thing to ask.

 

Bruce gave him a little smile and leaned back into the comfort of the pillows, pressing on  _ Tangled.  _ “I’m fine. Thank you.”

 

Before Harry could respond, Alfred came in, carrying a plate of cookies.  _ Alfred’s homemade cookies.  _ Was he lucky or what. 

 

“Oh dear,” Alfred said, after Harry snagged three cookies from the plate. “You weren’t waiting for me, where you?”

 

“Yeah we were!” Harry grinned. “You’re an essential part to the group!”

 

Alfred placed a hand on his chest, sitting down in the comfy chair Bruce pulled over for him when they were setting up. Alfred didn’t join their pile because he claimed his back would never allow him to stand back up. “Master Harry, how flattering you are,” Alfred fixed Bruce with a look that said ‘why don’t you treat me like that’.

 

Bruce pressed his lips into a line. “Are you ready?” He asked his companions, and pressed play before they could answer, like a gentleman. Harry knew that musical princess movies weren’t Bruce or Alfred’s first choice, but that just made it more fun to watch with them. Even if Bruce’s blunt criticism ruined it.

 

Harry relaxed and slumped against Bruce, hugging Zitka to his chest and thinking about how unfair it was he couldn’t take everyone to Hogwarts with him. 

 

-

 

“I am going to punch every single wizard who ever planned this out.” Dick muttered under his breath, looking between platforms 9 and 10 for the hundredth time. “Where the fu-”

 

Wally coughed loudly, looking at Harry pointedly. Dick waved him off, and Harry grinned slightly, despite his worry about missing the train. It was always funny to him when Uncle Wally pretended he didn’t teach Harry most of the swear words he knew. 

 

“Maybe we have to say magical words?” Harry suggested. “Oh! Or tap a wall, like Diagon Alley!”

 

“Would have been nice if Hagrid mentioned any of that.” Dick muttered, scowling at the platform. 

 

“We’ll find it!” Wally said confidently. “You want me to do perimeter? Make sure we aren’t missing a different area?”

 

Harry was pretty certain Dick already triple checked, but his dad sighed. “Fine-”

 

Almost as if on cue- or like  _ magic-  _ A big red head family was passing by, and the mother was talking  _ very  _ loudly. “Oh, what is that platform number again? Nine and Three Quarters?”

 

Without hesitated, Dick was already darting over to her. Harry trailed behind, lugging his suitcase. The weight of his backpack was really throwing him off, though, so he kind of stumbled. 

 

“Excuse me,” Dick said very politely to the women, who stopped to look at him. “Hi, sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear. You’re going to Hogwarts too?”

 

The woman smiled wide. “Oh, yes! Yes, dear. It’s Ron’s first year,” She put her hand on the shoulder of a son who was about Harry’s age, though much taller. He was holding hands with another little girl. “Do you need help finding the platform?”

 

Dick’s eyes narrowed slightly at her, and Harry wondered what for, but his expression remained friendly. It wasn’t even noticeable to anyone who didn’t know him. “Yes, we are,” He said gratefully, and jabbed his thumb back at Harry, who waved. He took a step forward, but his backpack almost threw him off balance again. Wally grabbed the handle to stabilize him, thankfully. Dick looked like he wanted to laugh, but turned his attention back to the woman. “It’s Harry’s first year too, and nobody actually told us how to get there…” 

 

“Hagrid?” She asked, and sighed like she already knew the answer. “Well, it’s just through that wall there! Simple.”

 

Dick blinked, and then his eyebrows went up to his forehead. “Wall.” He repeated.

 

Wally stepped around Harry and started stretching his legs. “I got this.” He said real confidently. “They don’t call me the Wallman for nothing!”  Harry couldn’t help but let out a little snort, both at the absurdity of Wally stretching to run, and also because Wally blended right into the red headed family. Harry looked over and saw that Ron was staring at Wally like he wasn’t sure whether to take him seriously.

“Why would they call you Wallman?” He asked, blinking. “Do you build walls?”

 

“Nope! But I run into them a lot,” Wally admitted. 

 

“Why would you do that?” Ron asked him seriously. 

 

“Cause he’s the Wallman,” One of the (assuming the Wizarding World didn’t have clones) twins said.

 

“Duh, Ronniekins, didn’t you hear?” The other added.

 

Ron turned red up to his ears. “But that’s so stupid-”

 

Wally pointed at him accusingly. “Watch who you call stupid, stupid!”

 

Ron spluttered, and Harry decided he didn’t want to get involved in Wally picking a fight with a fellow eleven year old. Instead, he overheard the quiet conversation between Dick and the woman, who were either doing a good job of pretending the argument wasn’t happening, or they were real oblivious.

 

“I’m sorry my best friend is an idiot.” Dick told her, not beating around the bush. 

 

She laughed warmly. “Oh, I’ve been helping muggles through the barrier since my eldest started out, and this is one of the more amusing ones.”

 

Dick let out a small breath. “Ah. That’s why you were talking like that.”

 

She smiled at him. “Oh, you’re a very smart one, you. Most don’t think about it too hard.”

 

“I’m a detective.” He sadi, smiling, before furrowing his eyebrows together. “Oh, right- that’s like a muggle Auror. I’ve read the books.”

 

She laughed again, shorter. “Don’t worry, I’m not that out of date with muggle terms- Now my husband on the other hand…” She shook her head. “Absolutely bonkers about the muggle world, he is.” 

 

“We’re pretty great, yeah,” Dick agreed, before blinking and holding out his hand. “Oh, excuse me- I’m Dick Grayson. Pretty rude not to introduce myself first.”

 

She shook it. “Molly Weasley. Very lovely to meet you, and your son is simply  _ adorable.”  _

 

“He isn’t-” Dick started, but then stopped himself, sighing in resignation. “Thank you.”

 

She looked at him, silently questioning, but let it go. “It’s not often we get Americans at Hogwarts,” She said, changing the subject.

 

“Oh, well Harry is sort of a special case…”

 

Harry stopped listening at that point, not caring about boring adult stuff. Wally and Ron were still arguing about stupid stuff, with the twins taking Wally’s side and teasing Ron. It reminded Harry a lot of Jason, and that reminded him that he wouldn’t get to see Jason or nay of his family for ten months, and that made him sad. 

 

“Mother!” The oldest looking red head said impatiently, interrupting whatever was going on with Dick and Mrs Weasley. “We have fifteen minutes!”

 

“Drat!” Mrs Weasley said, and tutted, quickly gesturing to from Percy to wall. “Go on, Percy, you know the order,”

 

Percy sighed like he was just  _ so  _ inconvenienced. Then he ran into the wall, and disappeared. 

 

The redheaded group of discourse stopped long enough to watch him. Wally and Ron looked equally as ‘oh shit’ as each other. 

 

“Fred!” Mrs Weasley pointed sharply at one of the twins. “You next!”

 

“But I’m Fred!” The other twin complained, causing the not-Fred twin to shake his head and sigh.

 

“Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother?”

 

Mrs Weasley deflated slightly. “Oh, sorry, George dear. You go instead, then.”

 

George lined up with the wall, and got Mrs. Weasley a shiteating grin. “Just kidding, I am Fred!” He said, and ran through. Molly pinched the bridge of her nose, and Wally laughed way too hard at the skit. 

 

Fred ran through almost immediately after George, and before Ron could even think about it, Wally got in the little runway they made. Harry had a good little time imagining him going splat, mostly because he knew he’d speedheal. 

 

Wally was vibrating slightly with excitement and none of the wizards seemed to notice. Harry was watching him, but he noticed Dick facepalming in the most disappointed way in his peripheral vision. Wally charged at the wall, and went through just as easily as the other gingers. 

 

“Ginny, sweetheart, come here,” Mrs. Weasley said, and reached out for the little girl holding Ron’s hand. She was so quiet Harry forgot she was there. She easily went to her mother's side, and Ron stared at his hand like he couldn’t believe he was free. 

 

“Ron!” Mrs Weasley said, snapping Ron’s attention to her. “Your turn!” 

 

Ron seemed equally as nervous as Harry was. THis was his first year, so he probably never did this before either. Harry staggered over, ignoring Dick’s little snigger at how he couldn’t walk properly with his  _ ginormous, 1000 pound  _ backpack. He held his hand out to Ron, stamping down any feeling of how stupid he felt. 

 

“Do you want to do it together?” He asked, and Ron looked so relieved Harry decided the embarrassment didn’t matter. Ron’s hand slipped into his, and they went through together. 

 

It didn’t really feel like anything. Harry would have felt stupid for being so nervous if he wasn’t absolutely amazed at how they were in a completely new place. That was  _ so  _ cool. 

 

He barely noticed Dick and Mrs. Weasley coming through behind him. The platform was mostly filled with adults, all the kids on the train already. He could see them leaning out, yelling last minute goodbyes to their parents and siblings. He startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up to see Dick smiling down at him. “Hey, chum.”

 

“Hey.” Harry looked back down. It was suddenly hard to face him, and he wasn’t sure why. 

 

Dick, thankfully picked up on his sudden mood shift. “You can still back out.” He reminded him. “Totally serious. Me and Wally will ditch tea with Molly, and we’ll just go straight home.”

 

Harry smiled a little bit of that. He could picture it, really, Wally running them back over the Atlantic. Dick helping him unpack his room, and then they'll order pizza from that place Harry threw up in when he was four. He could probably have another movie night with Bruce. Or Jason would come over, and they could play cards again, and Dick’ll help Harry cheat. He wanted that  _ so bad.  _

 

But he also wanted to go to Hogwarts. He wanted to learn about his real parents, and he wanted to see where they grew up, and where they fell in love, and he wanted to learn magic so he could help Dick with his ‘night job’. 

 

“I’ll be okay.” Harry told him seriously, turning to he could face him. Dick crouched down so they were at eye level with each other. 

 

“You better not be lying.” Dick warned him, and ruffled his hair. “I taught you too well, huh?”

 

Harry gave him a weak smile back. 

 

Dick sighed, his face softening. “It’s going to be fine. You’ll have fun, make friends.”

 

“I’m scared.” Harry admitted quietly through the lump in his throat. “What if I don’t make any friends? What if magic isn’t as wonderful as I thought it was?”

 

Dick smoothed Harry’s hair back, revealing his scar for the first time since they got to the platform. “It’s gonna be okay. If it’s not what you want, you can come home. Home’s always going to be there, right?”

 

Harry bit his lip and nodded. “Right.”

 

Dick pulled him into a hug. The train whistle blew, signalling five minutes. “Love you, chum. You’re gonna kick some ass.”

 

“I love you too.” Harry hugged his tight enough he probably suffocated him a little. “I’m going to write to you everyday.”

 

“I’d be mad if you didn’t.” Dick admitted.

 

Harry lingered before reluctantly pulling away. 

 

“Harry!” Ron yelled from the from the entrance of the train, causing Harry’s head to whip around to face him. “We’re gonna leave without you!”

 

Harry’s eyes widened, and he looked back at Dick in panic. 

 

“Go catch your train, chum.” Dick messed up his hair again, hiding his scar. Harry nodded before running to where Ron was waiting, his determination only causing him to waddle a little. He took Ron’s hand, letting him help him onboard.

 

The train took off almost immediately, and Harry lamented not being able to watch Dick as they left. Him and Ron managed to find surprisingly empty compartment easily, and they got their luggage up in the top part easily, and then sat across from each other. 

 

“So,” Ron grinned widely. “What house do you think you’ll be in? I’ll be Gryffindor, I reckon. Whole family was. As long as it’s not slimy Slytherin, right?”

 

Harry thought about Dick’s words. 

 

“Actually,” He said, and smiled. “Gryffindor seems kinda boring. Anybody can be brave, right?”

**Author's Note:**

> guess what house harrys gonna get in
> 
> (and you can find me on my [tumblr](https://waynecore.tumblr.com) if you want to chat!)


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